


Permutations (Also Known as the Everyone Shags Every Else Pas de Cinq)

by Aishuu



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Sexual Content, The Livejournal exodus, we only acknowledge one season of the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aishuu/pseuds/Aishuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course they all end up in bed with each other at some point. The Torchwood Team all perform private duets together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permutations (Also Known as the Everyone Shags Every Else Pas de Cinq)

_Waltz_

Ianto knows that something is broken deep inside Jack. It takes one to know one, after all.

He doesn't fool himself by thinking they're in love as he sinks to his knees and take Jack's cock into his mouth. He doesn't lie to himself and pretend that Jack can ever take the place of Lisa. But it feels good not to be alone, to feel the warmth of skin against his own.

They flirt shamelessly, since Jack doesn't know any other way to interact. It's light and meaningless, and Ianto clings to the very emptiness of their trysts. Jack is capable of great gentleness, but the one time he tries to treat Ianto like a lover, Ianto balks. He wants Jack to fuck him hard and make him forget what has gone wrong in his life. He wants to forget the sight of his hybridized lover, of how he had failed her.

Ianto has learned from the past. Besides, when he looks into Jack's eyes, he knows the truth – a truth he is working on convincing himself is for the best.

Jack can be gentle with many people, but that doesn't mean he sees them as individuals. Ianto knows that to Jack, it doesn't matter whose the body beneath him is, male or female, friend or stranger. And that's okay, because Ianto doesn't love Jack. He refuses to let himself be taken advantage of again.

 

_Swing_

They are truly spectacular together, just like he had promised.

Gwen's lost count of how many times she's let him strip her and lie her down on his table. He's a good fuck, with a satisfyingly large cock that makes her wet just thinking about. She may love Rhys, but it's Owen who she really wants.

Maybe it would be better to just break off her life outside Torchwood, but she can't bring herself to. Instead she walks that delicate line, developing a nearly schizophrenic lifestyle. She's read about all the signs of an affair, and recognizes that she's almost subconsciously asking to be caught sometimes.

Some days she doesn't wear any knickers, offering easy access for a quickie. Once Ianto walks in on them, but the Welshman is too polite to do more than avert his eyes and step right out of the room. She knows that if Jack catches them, that will spell the end of their sexual fascination.

Owen doesn't fool himself by thinking love has anything to do with them. She knows it's wrong, but he could care less about the moral implications of their affair. If it really mattered, she would stop. Owen believes in Gwen, more than he does the rest of them.

 

_Ballet_

Theirs was supposed to be a grand passion, the one be-all, end-all of the world. Of course that's not the way it works out.

Gwen has always felt a frisson of awareness whenever Jack smiles at her. He is a sexy beast, the kind of man that makes a woman wet her knickers just wondering what he'd be like in bed, but she is wise enough not to do more than spare the occasional minute or two thinking about snogging the heck out of him. She lives with a man she loves, and she knows that getting involved with Jack would only be asking for disaster to strike.

But then one day, she hears him sing.

Jack is inherently musical, but she had never suspected that his voice could be so golden. Everything about him is done to a rhythm, from the steady cadence of his steps to the predictable interlude of his teasing. But she has always considered him a lyricless score, open to interpretation. Singing is a was to express feelings and communicate, and Jack is so full of secrets that she wondered if he even has more than a passing acquaintance with the truth.

It's after a mission, one where blessedly no one ends up dead. They're all relaxed, and one by one the others leave, wanting to go home on a positive note. It's just them, finishing up the paperwork in his office, and then he starts to hum. She puts her pen down, but he doesn't even notice, lost in his own little world.

He's humming under his breath, and finally he starts to sing a song, in a language she hasn't even heard before. She can't even begin to describe what his voice does to her senses, except that suddenly she can't resist his charm anymore. Even she has her weak points, and when she hears him sing, she literally pounces on him. She has the zip to his pants down and his cock in her hand before he can do more than gasp her name in surprise. Then he is kissing her back, and her memory blurred from there.

It feels good, it feels right, and she's left feeling empty as he rolls off her. Jack is a fantastic lover, but even in the afterglow, she can't help but miss Rhys.

 

_Slam_

When Owen half-jokingly offers to play doctor with Jack, he is shocked by the reaction.

Rather than a playful jibe in return, Jack takes him seriously. They're in the med lab, and Owen finds himself backed up against the autopsy table. Jack is a powerfully-built man, and Owen is suddenly aware that he's outclassed in all respects.

He shouldn't have made the jab today of all days. There's four new dead bodies just added to the Torchwood crypts, and Jack blames himself. It's true that Jack is responsible for what happens under his command, but it's because of Jack that they don't have to bury the whole city of Cardiff. Sometimes Jack wants to be a hero so badly that he forgets that perspective counts.

There's always been a power struggle between the two of them, but as Jack pushes Owen's shirt aside – heedless of the damage he's doing to the buttons, Owen realizes that this was inevitable. Part of their battle is over who is the alpha male. As Jack pushes him to his knees, Owen realizes there never really was a question.

It's the best sex he's ever had. There's no pretense at affection or gentleness, just a mutual drive to find satisfaction. Owen, almost always determined to top, finds himself bending over and spreading his legs.

Jack leaves bruises on his skin, but Owen knows he's masochistic enough to come back for more.

 

_Ballroom_

She saw the way he looked at the original Captain Jack Harkness, and it breaks her heart that he'll never look at her like that.

Since returning to the proper time, Tosh finds herself wondering what might have happened if their efforts had resulted in failure. Jack – her Jack, her leader – had promised to take care of her, and she realized what that meant. Back in 1941, that would have meant marriage. She looks at him with eyes tainted by the knowledge that he cared enough for her to do such a thing. A part of her almost regrets that it didn't happen.

Jack is... Jack is... she can't think of the right kind of metaphor to describe him. Fire, perhaps, or maybe earth – grounded so deep she can't see where he begins. But that's not quite right. She's not the poetic type. Numbers have always made more sense to her.

She's not foolish enough to think she's in love with him, but she can't resist one night when he pulls her into his arms. She can smell the scent of whiskey on his breath, but his dexterity isn't at all impaired as he takes her to his bed. It's been too long since Mary, and she comes even before he slides into her body. He smiles, tells her it's okay, and then uses his tongue to wind her right back up to the peak of arousal.

He makes her feel treasured, like someone fragile he wants to protect. Tosh has grown up fighting for respect in a white man's world, and normally she would find the implication that she can't stand on her own, from Jack it's okay. Jack is the most egalitarian person she's ever met.

Jack just accepts that she is equal. She's smarter than he is, but he's stronger in all the ways that matter. As she raises her hips to his for the fourth time that night, she mentally vows to keep pace with him.

 

_Lambada_

Gwen doesn't have a clue what to do with another woman, but Tosh is a genius and Mary had been an eager teacher. She's able to apply what she's learned and Gwen is left twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm.

It's an alien artifact's fault they're naked in one of the holding cells. She has a sneaking surpicious that Owen is avidly watching via the camera system, probably fapping off and recording the images for posterity. Gwen tells herself that this affair is no worse then the one with the one she'd had with Owen, and probably more acceptable.

She always felt terrible for cheating on Rhys, but it's becoming a pattern for her. As Tosh rolls her onto her side and starts playing with her nipples, she uses her right hand to manipulate Tosh's clit. The sounds turns Gwen on something fierce, and she pushes all thoughts of guilt from her mind.

A part of her wonders if she should just tell Rhys she sort of accidentally ended up naked with her female coworker. He might not mind that much – because didn't all guys get off on lesbian sex?

That evening, after three mutual orgasms, she entertains the idea of inviting Tosh home for a threesome with Rhys. She doesn't consider if for long, though. She does not want her work to completely take over her life. What she has with Rhys must remain separate.

 

_Salsa_

The thing about Gwen is that she won't shut up and just fuck.

Ianto always does his best to retain his cool, since there's so many things at this cursed place that are beyond his control. He has to find his equilibrium where he can, and he finds himself drawn to Gwen's even-handed style. She's a powerful woman, one who works hard to prove herself in the crazy world of Torchwood.

Ianto doesn't want to talk about why they're doing what they're doing. Rhys left her three months ago, and neither of them can bring themselves to speculate where Jack is. And Owen... no. Owen has more than enough guilt to bear without adding a lover to the equation.

There's a constant babble in her voice as he traces his tongue along the column of her neck. She speaks in Welsh, but though Ianto understands everything she's saying, he doesn't really care. He tries not to think of his last lover, or even the last woman he had.

Gwen turns over onto her stomach, raising her ass as she encourages him to take her from behind. Lisa had never liked doggie-style, and Jack had always been on top so Ianto obliges eagerly as he tries to create a new memory, focus on a new person to care for. He desperately craves a connection to someone, anyone.

She's so different than Jack, in all respects but one. She is so vitally, dizzyingly alive that her inner fire threatens to consume him. Ianto thinks as he fucks her, that might be for the best.

 

_Tango_

Ianto's hands trace over the scars caused by the bullet he had fired. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and he presses a kiss over the healed wound.

Owen's not sure why they're doing this, but he does know that Ianto is one of the beautiful people, and that's enough to make him hard. With Ianto, there's no flattering phrases or false courting, just a mutual itch they can scratch together. The fact they're doing it on the bed Jack never slept on is just an extra fillip.

Jack's gone, and none of them know if he's coming back. Jack had been the center of their existence for so long that none of them know what to do without him. Ianto goes down on him, twisting his tongue in a pleasurable fashion, he spares a thought to wonder if that trick was something Jack taught him.

But Jack is not here, and Owen and Ianto are. He pushes Ianto's legs wide as he produces a tube of Astroglide. Ianto watches with those pretty eyes of his, saying nothing, and Owen knows this is as good as it's going to get. Maybe together, they can pretend to forget that he is not there.

Or maybe they'll both damn themselves together.

Owen doesn't know which he prefers.

 

_Disco_

Tosh and Ianto are both thoroughly sloshed the one time they end up fucking each other.

Jack has been missing for three months, and the tension in the hub is unbearable. Owen drives them all hard, unwilling to let Torchwood Three follow its predecessors into complete failure or obscurity. All of them are snappish and on edge, which leads Gwen suggesting a bar.

Neither is sure how they end up together, but it happens. They're only half-naked as they fumble around on Tosh's red sheets, like adoslecents who've never screwed before. It should have been about comfort, about feeling a sense of belonging, but it's not.

Instead it's entirely playful, like little kids playing their first game of doctor. She teases him in Japanese and he replies back in Welsh. Neither of them have a clue what the other is saying. The words don't matter, though. She laughs as he kisses her stomach, and then he's laughing too, and for several minutes they forget about their sorrow.

 

_Last Dance_

In the end, it's just the two of them, and they fall into each other because there's no one else left.

Once upon a time, Tosh had fancied herself in love with Owen. He was handsome and intelligent, but with enough edge in his personality. Gradually, she'd come to realize that he was one of the biggest jackasses she'd ever met, but by then she'd been so obsessed with her fantasy that she hadn't cared. But later she'd learned to see him as he really was, and recognized that what she felt was not love.

Since Mary. Since Ianto. Since Gwen. Since Jack.

He undresses her carefully, and murmurs the appropriate words of adoration, but she doesn't feel desired, just needed. The sex is rough and desperate, but she can't think of him. She's remembering the moist touch of Jack's tongue on her clit, the warmth of Gwen's hands fondling her breasts, the taste of Ianto's cock in her mouth. Each lover was unique, but now she can't keep them straight and doesn't know which one she is longing for.

As Owen drives into her, she wraps her legs around his waist and shuts her eyes, wondering which one Owen longs for most, too. Love shouldn't be simple, and life at Torchwood has shown it doesn't need to be monogamous, but it should be honest.

Tomorrow, when they wake up together, she will share her memories and her loss, and Owen will pretend to listen. Or maybe he will actually want to share his own pain with her. He's experienced just as many losses, after all.

That will be tomorrow. For now she concentrates on the slide of his cock inside of her, the solid presence of something real in a world that too often drives them all crazy.

Sex makes sense. It's the one constant Tosh can cling to.


End file.
